Game Play by Hazel Edwards Page B

questions again. Her favourite hobby when she wasn’t collecting phone cards, stickers or stamps, was collecting answers. ‘A coach? Or a trainer?’
    â€˜Er...’ Mr Muscles looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Stacking.’
    He had a rolled up newspaper sticking out of his hand luggage.
    Christopher wondered why he bothered. Often the airline supplied newspapers for passengers to read.
    Before Amy had a chance to ask about ‘stacking’, he showed them his photographs.
    â€˜I’ve been Mr World, you know.’ His wallet was stuffed with photographs. They were all of him. Usually he was bare chested with tiny bathers. Amy pushed her rainbow glasses back on her nose. His muscles looked like giant bubbles.
    â€˜You look like Arnold Schwarzenegger,’ said Christopher.
    Mr Muscles looked pleased.
    â€˜Are you here for the International Games?’ asked Christopher.
    â€˜Yes. There’s going to be a body-builders’ contest, too.’
    Christopher looked around the plane. Judging by the shoulders, there were a few body-builders on board.
    â€˜Sports teams on board, too,’ added Amy who often knew what her twin was thinking.
    The flight attendant collected empty juice glasses from several seats of team track suits.
    â€˜I’m on the juice,’ said Mr Muscles. His skin had bumps and purple patches of acne. He also had a squarish jaw.
    â€˜Have my orange juice then,’ offered Amy. ‘I’m not thirsty.’
    That’s not exactly what he meant. Amy didn’t understand until much later.
    At home, Amy was called Jet Jaws. She talked a lot but she also listened. That’s one reason she liked flying. Passengers loved talking about themselves. Since leaving Singapore, she’d learnt about antique jewellery from Mrs Gold and Mrs Silver and body building from Mr Muscles.
    Amy wondered if Cairns had any Talking Games this week. She pictured the team of Mrs Gold and Mrs Silver talking against Mr Muscles. With Aunty Viv as the compere. That would be a noisy event.
    Amy flicked the pages of the inflight magazine. She’d read ‘This Sporting Week in Cairns’ by Tom Savvas and ‘Sporting Drug Dangers’.
    She’d done the crossword. She had already finished her book and all the magazines. Being a super fast reader was a problem on long flights.
    â€˜Excuse me.’ She leaned across the aisle. ‘Could I read your newspaper please?’
    But that’s when Mr Muscles went all strange. Until then, he’d been chatting to them in a friendly way.
    â€˜Haven’t read it yet myself,’ he grumped rolling it more tightly and cramming it deeper in the bag at his feet.
    Amy watched him later. From the time she asked to borrow the paper until touch down, Mr Muscles did NOT read his newspaper. The flight attendant did ask him to put up his table when the seat belt sign went on again. Maybe he liked to spread his paper out on a table?
    Perhaps he was just one of those grumps who didn’t like lending things?
    Or maybe there was another reason?

Chapter 3
Umbrellas
    Cairns felt steamy -- a tropical smell mixed with hot tarmac.
    Going down the steps, Amy looked up at the dense, green mountains surrounding the airfield. Their pilot must have been skilful to get into here. Now a Boeing 747 was taking off, at a very steep angle to get across the mountains.
    â€˜Our plane hasn’t got an aerobridge,’ noticed Christopher as they walked across the tarmac and under the covered walkway. Aerobridges linked other planes with Air Niugini, Japan Airlines and Singapore Airlines signs. Aerobridges were like people vacuum cleaners, the planes plugged into the tube and all the people were vacuumed out.
    A breeze rustled, bushes moved and palm trees swayed. Little vehicles buzzed around. All the airport vehicles had flashing yellow lights. Even the ride-on mower.
    Look!’ Amy pointed to the yellow wheelie bin stuffed with giant